


Red Flames

by SunflowerSupreme



Series: After the Flames [2]
Category: Silmarillion
Genre: Amrod died, Caranthir is just angry, Celegorm is angry at maglor, Curufin is angry at Maglor, Family Problems, Gen, Maedhros has been captured, after Losgar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-04
Updated: 2015-02-04
Packaged: 2018-03-10 12:42:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3290729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SunflowerSupreme/pseuds/SunflowerSupreme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Amras and Maglor talk about their father, Amrod, and Maedhros. Amras may be the smartest son of Feanor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Red Flames

**Author's Note:**

> This follows the belief that Amrod did die at the Burning of the Ships just for angst. Yes I am a terrible person.

Maglor took a few deep breaths and leaned his head against the wall. Far too much had happened in the last few weeks for his comfort. Nothing would ever be the same, and he had no way of knowing if he would ever see his lost family members, even after his own death. His father, grandfather, and two brothers were dead. His mother and countless friends and cousins were still in Valinor. _Perhaps those we left were the lucky ones, the smart ones; perhaps the Valar love them more. We are Dispossessed, we are lost, we are fools, are we unloved as well?_

“Kano?” A quiet voice shocked him from his thoughts. “Kano may I come in?”

Maglor straightened and brushed his fingers through his hair. _I must stay together, for them. I must stay strong for my brothers._ “Come in Pityo.”

Amras opened the door just a crack, enough for his small body to fit through, and stepped into the room. As acting King of the Noldor, Maglor had been given the nicest room available in their new makeshift settlement. Not that that truly meant much. “May I sit with you?”

Maglor was taken back, to a different time, when two young twins, frightened by their parent’s arguments, had crawled into his bed in the dead of night. Amras’s voice hadn’t changed at all; Amrod’s never would.

“If you like.” He turned to offer his brother a supportive smile, but felt sick. It was not the poor elf’s haunted eyes, nor his too-thin frame that bothered Maglor, but his brilliant red hair. 

Amras sat beside him and for a time they were both silent. “Tykel is angry with you,” he said. “Curufin won’t say. And Moryo is angry as well, but I think that is obvious.”

“Some things never change.” Maglor clenched his fingers in his robes. “What about Pityafinwe? How does he feel?”

“I am, confused,” he confessed. “But I think you love Matimo very much, and you must have a good reason to order us to leave him in captivity.”

“I cannot lose anyone else, none of us can.”

Amras smiled and leaned into his big brother’s shoulder. “He forgives you, you know. I do as well, though I wish he were still here. At least he did not have to see Ada die, or Matimo lost. Is he coming back?”

Maglor’s stomach clenched, realizing that Amras was speaking of his deceased twin. He bit his tongue so he would not correct his brother as their other siblings did. “What does he forgive me for?”

“Burning the ships,” he replied quietly. 

Maglor blinked, grateful, but at the same time a little hurt. It was not, he admitted to himself, the ships burning that he wanted forgiven for, but for the capture of his brother and his subsequent actions. “Thank you,” he said.

Amras sighed. “May I beg a favor?”

“Of course.” _Anything for you Pityo, if it is in my power to give then it is yours. If not then I will beg to one who has it within their power._

“Could you tell Tykel to please stop sending Huan into my room at night? I think he believes I am lonely, but it doesn’t help.” 

“Of course, little brother.”

Amras stood, but then sat back down again. “Kano? Can I ask one more favor?” He knelt and leaned his head on Maglor’s leg. Maglor closed his eyes. 

“Yes, anything.”

Amras paused, as if trying to decide how to ask what he wanted. “Will you look at me?” 

Maglor’s body jerked and he stiffened, surprised by the question. Before he could comment Amras explained, “You always look away when you see me. Do I remind you too much of Matimo and Amrod and Nana?”

Maglor opened his eyes to look at his littlest brother. “Pityo,” he began, but his words failed him. 

Amras spoke for him. “I want to help you Kano, even If our other brothers are angry at you. I want to help you because you’ve always helped me. If you want, you don’t have to look at me though, just listen and tell me what you need.”

Maglor lifted Amras’s hands to his mouth and kissed and squeezed them. “Yes,” he choked. “I would like that. I am sorry.”

“I understand. I can’t look in a mirror anymore, and I start to cry if I see myself.” 

“Just give me time,” Maglor whispered, closing his eyes. “Give me time to adjust.”

Amras pulled him to his feet and Maglor allowed himself to be blindly led across the room. He was sat on his bed and Amras began to pull off his shoes.

“Pityo?”

“You need sleep,” Amras explained. He rolled his elder brother onto his side and drew the covers over him. “Would you like me to stay?”

Maglor shrugged. Amras sat beside him and tucked his knees to his chest but remained sitting. Maglor asked, “Why are you doing this?” 

At first Amras was quiet, then he replied, “Because you helped me first. After Losgar when Ada and I argued and Maitimo pulled me away and took me to my tent before it could escalade. Then you and Matimo sat with me all night and kept me from doing anything foolish. I wanted to follow him you know, I wanted to run to the shore and throw myself into the water and return to him. But you held me so I couldn’t.” Just when Maglor thought that Amras was finished talking he quietly added, “After Ada died, before he went to Morgoth, Matimo pulled me aside and made me promise to take care of you if something happened. I think he expected this, or feared it. He made you promise that too, didn’t he? He made you promise to protect us so you ordered us to not help him under his orders.”

Maglor couldn’t speak, his throat was tight and tears were falling freely. He reached over and grabbed his brother’s hand and clung to that, his one last anchor to sanity. 

“Why didn’t you tell them?” Amras asked, several minutes later when he was fairly certain Maglor had stopped crying. “Why do you let them blame you?”

“Because it’s easier, because they hurt and need someone to lash out at and blame and it can’t be Ada or Matimo.” 

Amras held his fingers tightly. “Why do they need that? I don’t and you don’t.”

“I have someone,” he replied. 

“Who?”

“Myself.”

Amras was silent. “I blame Ada sometimes,” he confessed. “But then I remember that he was fey and loved us very much before all of this got to him. My Ada would never have done this, it was the King of the Noldor who did this to us Kano, not Ada, or you, or Matimo, or anyone else. It was the Silmarils and what they turned Ada into. You said I could ask for anything, so please don’t blame yourself. Blame me, if you must.”

“Pityo what did you ever do?”

“Nothing that I am aware of, but if you need someone to blame, then you may blame me.”

Maglor choked back a sob. “Thank you.” He felt the bed shift as Amras laid down next to him. 

“Goodnight Kano.”

“Goodnight Pityo.”


End file.
